So, this only took over a year to write! Most of that blame's set on me trying to get back into a decent writing groove, but this idea's given me trouble for a while now, and considering the story it's a follow up to, I really shouldn't be surprised.
The morning after's a cold one, but at least she isn't alone for long. Sequel to Follow. Set squarely in SR2.
Drip
Drip
Drip
V shifted on the couch, but didn't get up. Tucking her head into her arm, she stared at the worn, brown fabric in front of her, and tried to ignore the warmth of the scarf half-tangled around her.
The sound was harder to tune out.
Drip
Drip
Lowering her lashes, she inhaled and exhaled slowly, and waited.
Drip
She started counting the seconds between them too. She didn't…didn't touch a single thing in the kitchen last night, did she?
Only put up a standing offer for awful coffee.
Drip
Which Troy seemed set on, and glad to have, even, at least until she-
Drip
Drip
Drip
"Motherfucker," she muttered, climbing to her feet.
One harsh twist of the faucet handle stopped the trickle of water, and when no other sound rang out, she set her hands on the edge of the sink. The rush of blood that came from hopping up way too fast hit slowly, easing in gradually, leaving V's head bobbing forward as her body caught up to the rest of her.
Her next inhale and exhale came out ragged. Rough, as her teeth caught on her lower lip. That's when the shiver ran through her. The thin t-shirt wasn't even half as good of a substitute for a blanket, but that's what she had. Only that, the couch, and-
She craned her head towards the living room, searching the couch and the floor. Somewhere on her trek to the kitchen, she'd left the scarf trailing after her, discarded somewhere along the way.
Padding over to it, she gingerly picked it up, and wrapped it around her hands. Somehow the damn thing was still warm, and as her grip tightened on it, she felt the chill running through her start to recede. She'd been warm, so warm, not too long ago. Comfortable, even. But now, as she ran her thumbs over the dark blue knit, she wasn't sure where she stood.
He was already starting to unwrap it from around his neck, and she froze as he tossed it around hers without a thought, giving one of the ends a simple flip over her shoulder. "Better?"
V pressed her nose into the fabric, and shut her eyes. Imagined the warm press of hands traveling over her body, with Troy's rough breaths against her neck sending shivers down her back. How his voice sounded, how she sounded, clutching to him, both desperate for the other.
Then she imagined how she felt after. Standing there alone, with water pooling under her feet.
The scarf hit the wall by the door, and she walked away, her jaw clenched tight.
Her hands were covered in suds when the doorbell rang. The sound nearly made the soaped up coffee mug fly out of her hands, and she scrambled to set it down as she listened closely for a knock. A forceful one.
God, she hoped she wouldn't hear any. Not now. Not with her like…this. Blinking fast, her head fogged up, hands unsteady - whatever the hell this was.
Because if it was him – and with luck, it would be - Gat would know. He wouldn't know-know, but she could only bullshit her way through so much, before either laughing it off, or running. And the fact that she was dangerously close to doing the latter no matter who came through the door, hurt the longer she considered it.
The bell went off again, and she started to approach the front. Three knocks rang out, none of them half as hard as Johnny could manage, and she started to relax.
"Boss? Hey, boss, are you there?"
V's eyebrows flew up, and she froze in place.
"Hello?" There were two knocks this time, slightly louder, but no more urgent.
Forcing herself to move forward, she undid the deadbolt, and pulled the door open enough to give Carlos an incredulous look.
He quickly lowered his hand, caught mid-knock, and stood up straight. He'd tossed a hoodie on over his usual tank and zipped it up to keep some of the cold out. "Hi."
"Hi, yourself," she replied, squinting her eyes against the light.
"It's uh…I tried your phone, but you weren't picking up." When she didn't say anything else, the hopeful look on his face became more bashful. "Which happens, maybe it went dead, or it's on silent. But I thought you might…maybe you wouldn't mind breakfast?"
He held up a paper bag.
"You like Apollo's, right?"
That was when she noticed the coffee. He'd seriously done it. Even after the damn nuclear plant, and her shitty comeback plan.
"I'll make a fucking Saint out of you even if it kills me."
A dry, bitter taste crept into her mouth, and she turned away as more of her weight came to rest against the door. "…Hey, Carlos?"
"Yeah?"
"You know you can come inside, right? Instead of just freezing your ass off on my front porch?"
It took a second, but he smiled, and it grew when he saw her start to do the same. "Well, I know now."
"Good, so seriously," she said, gesturing him forward. "Get in here, before you do."
V stepped aside to let Carlos come through the doorway, and felt the bite of the air before shutting it out. Still cold, still a touch more miserable than Stilwater usually was around this time of year, and wished she had a jacket. Hell, a proper set of pants would've helped, but she was already making a beeline for the kitchen and the mess in the sink she'd left behind.
"Late night?"
Her thumbs swiped at the suds, smearing them across the FUZZ logo stamped on the mug. "Kinda. They're usually all late."
Paper rustled behind her, crinkling as Carlos opened the bag, but she didn't turn to look. Just traced the letters on the mug over and over until she forced it under the faucet.
"There's two in here for you. The powdered sugar ones." Her attention went straight to him, and he swore under his breath. "I touched it for a second. Only one. How you can eat two or three of these without covering everything, I don't understand."
A white streak marked the cuff of his hoodie as well as the front of it, and she couldn't help it. She snorted, and ducked her head back towards the dishes. "That sugar's a menace, man. Not a glitter-grade menace, but bad enough. And Belly Jelly's? The absolute worst."
But they were her favorites. And here he was, standing in her kitchen, practically waving two of them at her when he wasn't avoiding an excess sugar cloud.
"So," she said, after a minute, shaking the water off of her hands, "something on your mind?"
The bag crinkled, but no reply came.
"Because after our little toxic waste detour, there really should be."
Carlos sighed, but didn't shy away from her gaze when she twisted around to look at him. "…You're not wrong."
"But what?"
"But I'm not here for that. There's something going on over by the university. Lots of red trucks have been tearing the grounds up, and even running people down if they don't watch where they're going."
"Sure they aren't just giving the Samedi shit?"
"There's that, but I think they're there for the drugs."
V's brows drew together. "Drugs?"
"They've been making drugs in a lab by the campus for over a year now, down in Sommerset, undercutting any profits the Samedi are making off of the Loa Dust. And now that we've run most of the Samedi off, there's no one left to slow them down."
"The hell did you hear that from?"
He shrugged in response, but the excitement in his eyes couldn't be missed. "You wanted a break, right?"
She couldn't deny it. Or the eager feeling welling up in her chest. That that was able to cut through the haze was a miracle in and of itself, and she clung to it fiercely.
"Fucking A. Let me…I'm getting on some damn pants." Her hand shot up as she passed him, and pointed right at him. "Don't go anywhere."
Shoving the door to her bedroom open, she didn't bother to close it behind her. Just focused on grabbing for anything resembling a pair of jeans, and slipped on the nearest bra she could find. Her sunglasses followed shortly after, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped the rounded frames on.
Her phone blinked from its position on her nightstand, and when she picked it up, she noticed four missed calls. Two were from Carlos. The fourth was from Johnny – which validated her fears from earlier, though it didn't seem to be an emergency.
The third came from a number that by now she knew well. Had it nearly memorized, from the odd little place she kept it tucked in her contacts.
Strange. Looking at the blinking message and number now, she almost felt relieved. Pissed, yes. Dejected and lonely, yes, but he'd actually fucking called her.
"Fucking A," she muttered to herself. "The fuck is wrong with you?"
She pressed an unsteady hand to her mouth, and eyed the messages icon. Worked to steady her breathing as her thumb hovered over the phone's screen.
"Uh, you good?"
She jumped, nearly losing her grip on the thing, and she shoved the phone in her pocket. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm best I'm looking to be. Just fishing around for a decent pair of pants," she said, striding out with a smile pasted on her face. "Why?"
"It's cold out. Maybe you should-"
A blue scarf hung from his open hand as Carlos held it out to her, part of it nearly trailing on the floor by his feet. She yanked it away, her hand gripping it tight enough to hurt, and tossed it towards the couch.
"Not that cold. Come on," she said, jerking her head towards the door. "A party like that's not gonna crash itself."
When Carlos mentioned red, he meant red.
Sommerset's entire area was red, inside and out, that fact growing clearer with every truck that passed them by on the road. Not that she expected them to be flying flags high, but the first apartment they rolled up to had two blazing red SUVs parked outside, the tribal patterns dead ringers for their owners.
And the two didn't waste any time taking down the Brotherhood members left shooting the breeze nearby. Shots rang out, giving them little time to rush up the stairs, and once Carlos singled out the right door, she threw herself against it hard enough to slam it open. Maybe a little harder than intended, but the solid crack of it against the Brotherhood behind it was too damn satisfying to deny.
This was action. This had adrenaline running hot through her veins, burning hotter and hotter with every motion, and she reveled in it.
Carlos stuck close to her back, pushing past her when it became clear that the others were going to start firing, and didn't hesitate. He fired right at those wearing red and black, giving V only a handful of seconds to contribute herself.
Bang
Bang
Bang
Her teeth were clenched tight, her sunglasses digging into the bridge of her nose, and she briefly cursed the weird orange tint coloring everything. Only two people were left, the two wearing ratty college tees, and not a lick of the Brotherhood's usual regalia. Their arms shot up when the dust settled, both of them looking close to pissing their pants if they hadn't already.
V didn't even get a chance to open her mouth before Carlos approached the two, his gun raised. "Where's the dust?"
"I don't-we were just-"
"You think we have the time to fuck around with you here? That she does?"
V's eyes cut to him, then the two people left quivering in place. Sure, her eyes were covered by her sunglasses, but they were aimed right at them, and they knew it. That did not seem to reassure them at all.
"It's…it's a few blocks from here," the woman replied, quickly, "just head east. Uh, shit. There's a drop at an apartment east, and another one closer."
"One, or two?"
"T-two."
"You positive?" V asked, speaking up. "Cause your memory's not looking too sharp right now if you ask me."
"Yes! Yes, there's two. One to the east closer to campus, and one…one a few streets north. Just, just follow the trucks! They always hang around outside. No one sees them there and actually tries messing with them. Most of the time."
Carlos looked back at her, but kept his gun trained on them. Her signal was needed here, and he wasn't going to let up until she confirmed it. When she nodded, he exhaled slowly.
"Look at that? You both got a free pass today, but you find yourself here paying for Brotherhood shit again, and we won't stop to ask. Got it?" They stared right at him until he snapped, "You got it?"
They traded a look and ran for the door, not even bothering to look back.
V let out a low whistle. "You good?"
Her first guess would've been a solid 'No.' Tension ran through the set of Carlos's shoulders, and he angled his head towards the bodies on the floor. "Better than them."
"True. Lucky for us, they can't aim worth shit. But you? Are you good?"
He closed his eyes, still looking as serious as she'd ever seen him, and let out a long breath. "Yeah."
She turned and started heading towards the door. "Good, because now we've gotta find our way to apartment number-oh, fuck!"
The Brotherhood recruit bearing down on them was fast, and favored a shotgun, unlike her other friends.
V tried to duck under the edge of the shitty table in the kitchen, only for it to disintegrate under the force of the blast. She couldn't see Carlos now, but as she skidded across the floor, she shot wildly, hoping she was drawing the majority of the woman's focus.
One caught the woman's shoulder, but the shotgun was still trained on her. Still set and ready to tear a hole in her if she couldn't get up and move.
One shot went into the floor. The second into the cabinets behind her. That one she didn't completely dodge as she darted behind the couch in the living room, feeling some of the buckshot tear into the side of her thigh. Now, that, got her swearing.
"Boss! V!"
"Get down!" A chunk of the couch disintegrated as she stumbled behind it, and she fell to the floor. Her leg throbbed between the sharp pangs of pain, and she hoped like hell Carlos wouldn't fare the same. "Yo, asshat! Aim a little fucking lower, why don't you!"
"You want them to shoot the shit out of you, boss?"
More voices filled the room, drowning out Carlos's words and she took a few potshots towards the door. Damn Brotherhood backup. When it rained, it poured. A few more shots followed, nearly emptying her magazine, but the final two bullets were wasted, going wide as she slipped off of the ratty velvet fabric of the couch.
"V!"
Her shoulder smarted as it hit the floor, but not as much as her pride. "Carlos! Stay with me, man, and get into cover dammit!" she ground out, forcing herself back up.
Another shot tore into the cushions, but a yell rang out shortly after. V's heart pounded, her blood rushing as she searched her person for anything resembling a spare mag.
"…V?"
Her hands stopped going through her pockets. Only her quick breaths could be heard in the room now, and she slowed those down to hear for the voice again.
"Boss?"
She coughed out a laugh against the back of the couch. "Oh, man. You are a fucking champ, you know that? A real rock star."
"Says you." Carlos came around the side of the couch seconds later, roughed up, but not bloody. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, most of my blood's still in my fucking body, thank Jesus, but we need to move. As in, now. As in, as soon as I can drag my ass up off of this floor and away from this goddamn couch," she said, trying to get up. Only Carlos's steadying hand kept her from falling over again. "Fucking A."
"You know I have you, boss. Would've crossed to you sooner, but they didn't want to let up. Just kept on coming right through the damn door."
Her grip was tight around his hand, and once she was standing she reluctantly let go. Her leg still hurt enough to distract, the blood staining the hell out of her torn jeans, and she turned her attention towards the dull green of the apartment's curtains. They were thin, but weren't any of the satin bullshit that fancier places would've opted for.
She whipped out her pocket knife, idly aware of Carlos's eyes on her, and started cutting a strip of the fabric off. It would make an awful bandage, but it was better covered than left bleeding freely. "Is it bad that I was hoping we'd get lucky on this one and have it be the lab?" She watched Carlos shake his head. "Damn process of elimination. Tell me you aren't out of ammo."
"Not anymore." He held up the discarded shotgun. "They're not going to use these any longer, so why leave them? Think we might need more than three busted-ass rifles to get the rest, though."
She tied off the knot around her leg and winced. The smarter part of her agreed wholeheartedly. "Yeah, proper backup's sounding kinda nice around now, isn't it? Get a few guys on the line and let 'em know who we're tangoing with."
"And bring more guns?"
She flashed him a thumbs-up. "Always."
Proper backup consisted of two newly minted Saints slash college students housing nearby, and one slightly older vet that happened to be in the area. It was surreal to see them run over with their colors mixing with that of Stilwater U, but they fell right in as if this wasn't out of the ordinary.
With two houses left, either of which could be the lab they were hunting for, Carlos proposed splitting up. She wasn't keen on that plan at all, but as she watched him interact with and direct the others, she decided to step back. It had been his idea to crash the operation after all. It was only fair to see where he'd keep on taking it.
They parted at the bottom of the stairs on the ground floor, and V shot off a quick salute to Carlos before jumping into the passenger side of her Saint's car. They peeled out just as he tried returning it, doubt shining through only for a second.
She could only force the worry down and keep on going.
With two locations left, and the Brotherhood hurting, it wasn't a surprise to see a red truck cut across the lanes on the road to tail them. Bullets blew out the rear windshield, and she craned around the passenger side to start trading fire with them. None of the shots were clear, but a lucky swerve into the right lane sent the truck straight into the back of an idling Komodo, leaving them a clear enough path to zip ahead.
The kid she was with tried to keep it steady, but by the time they rolled up to yet more fire, she could see the tremors in his hands.
He's practically your age and not a fucking kid, she thought, chiding herself, but they're too young for this shit. All of them. Even-
The Saint whooped when the Brotherhood recruit on the stairs took a hit and fell off of the balcony above.
"Two points! You ready, boss?"
She stood there, silent for close to a minute before raising her borrowed shotgun. "Stick close, champ. This isn't going to be pretty."
This time around there was no unnecessary tango indoors. They met most of their resistance right on the balcony, ducking around the doorway as they shot through the windows.
It was a relief. That, and the fact that her green-ish Saint, Kahn, was still kicking and cheerful once all was said and done. What wasn't, was the fact that this apartment, much like the last, was clear of any and all equipment needed to produce any kinds of drugs at all, let alone Loa Dust.
She puffed away at a cigarette, caught between irritated and baffled. What were they missing?
There's a drop at an apartment east, and another one closer-
A drop? Shit. It was coming from elsewhere.
She pulled up Carlos's number, pacing in place, and waited. "Pick up, Carlos. Pick up!" Smoke clouded her vision as her cigarette dwindled down to ashes, but still nothing. "Fuck!"
"Would you like to leave a message?"
She ran for the stairs.
"Uh, boss? Where are you…? Hey! Wait!"
Kahn had the keys, so she yelled over her shoulder for him to follow. She kept on calling as she climbed into the passenger seat, and gestured roughly towards the other apartment's location.
They were on the road when Carlos finally answered. "Things aren't exactly calm enough to talk over here, boss!"
"No shit!" Gunfire, and lots of it, echoed through the receiver. "What happened?"
"A truck tried to roll up on us while we were pulling up to the apartment, but tore out. It was covered in purple and red shit, but someone starting yelling about protecting it. We took off right after it, and now-" A sharp screech rang out, and Carlos rattled off a few words to the others in the vehicle before coming back to her. "We're either going to blow right on through, or crash into the university with the way they're driving. The truck's not showing any signs of stopping."
"They mentioned a drop earlier. That's gotta be the truck holding the dust! Don't let up, even for a damn second! We'll be there soon."
"Soon better be soon! Our fucking tires can't keep this up!"
The car was pushing as hard as it could, model be damned, and if Kahn put his foot down any harder it'd go straight through the floorboards. They had to catch up. They also needed to find them to begin with, and made a bee-line for the University.
A large purple truck. A large purple and red truck. You'd figure she'd have an affinity for the thing, considering the colors it favored, but even as she shoved her sunglasses up and out of her face, she saw nothing. Only the usual dirt and junk that accumulated on the edges of the street.
As they neared the campus itself, however, a stark black skidmark slashed across the pavement, followed by scattered pieces of metal. There was no sign of a smashed vehicle, or a pair of people standing off to the side nearby screaming at each other over a collision, so maybe, just maybe that was it.
Kahn pulled at the neck of his sweatshirt, and for the first time that day looked nervous. "Boss? Do you hear those horns?"
She listened for them, and sure enough, heard a short string of sounds that could've been a car horn. "Good ear. …Is it just me, though, or are they getting louder?"
"They're getting louder."
They roared through a light as the sound grew in volume, and Kahn's grip on the wheel went tight.
"Truck. Truck!"
V slapped at Kahn's shoulder.
"Kahn! Truck!"
The car spun to the right as he put it into motion, skidding out of the truck's path as it barreled past them. She watched as the truck disappeared out of sight – smoking heavily – followed by a beat to hell car.
That's when the full tilt of the spin hit. V wasn't sure who started yelling, but the two didn't stop, losing all sense of their location in space until it all came to a crashing stop.
Things fell out of focus for a few seconds, her vision fuzzy as she kept on blinking over and over. Her cigarette was long gone, having flown out of her mouth mid-warning, but she'd light another if she needed it. The center console felt cool under her arms, half of her upper body draped over it, and she dug her fingers into the fabric as she dragged herself up.
"Yo. Yo, uh, K?" Her tongue wet her lips only to taste blood. "You good, man?"
He didn't answer. She craned her head towards him, only to see him staring ahead, slack-jawed and silent. His nosebleed was bad, but it didn't look like his nose was broken. Dots of red stood out against the grey of his sweatshirt, and the longer she stared at it, the more it perplexed her.
Her hand gingerly reached up to adjust her sunglasses only to come into contact with the bridge of her nose. That explained the return to glorious technicolor.
She groped for the glasses on the floorboards while addressing Kahn again. "Kahn?" Still nothing. "Come back to me, man. Hey!" This time he snapped awake, looking blearily over at her. "Can you drive?"
He nodded, but that didn't stop his arms from quaking.
"Kahn! Can you?"
His foot hit the gas, and they roared back into motion. They were more than a few beats behind now, but they'd catch up. At this speed it'd take a minute tops, provided the others were giving them as much shit as she suspected they were.
Sure enough, when the mess ahead came into view again, the truck couldn't shake the car behind it. It'd sway, it'd cut directly into oncoming traffic, but none of it even phased the car ahead, even as pieces of it rattled, snapped, and broke off in the process.
"Jesus, Carlos," she laughed, getting her gun out. "The whole thing's falling apart and he's still on them like a cheap-ass suit." She turned to Kahn. "Think you can take us in a little closer?"
He nodded, his entire posture relaxing back into what she saw at the apartments. "I can do closer."
Closer would help with her aim, which while decent under regular conditions and distances, was completely up for debate while leaning out of a car's window. She shot for the tires, holding off when Carlos's car swerved in front of her, and wasn't sure how many she wasted in the process. The entire surface of the truck was pockmarked by now, but it was something, and as Kahn kept on gunning it, she hoped they'd find a way to pull in front.
Either the tires had to go or the driver did. If she'd been the only one in the car she'd also have tried side-swiping the damn thing; hijacking had been her thing after all, but only when alone.
Her own safety she could handwave. Someone else's? Non-fucking-negotiable.
Still, Kahn seemed to be reading her mind as he drove in closer and spun the wheel. She ducked back inside, nearly losing her gun in the process, and the impact shook the entire frame of the car.
"Holy hell, man!" He swerved again, and she swore louder. "Hey! Cool it! Just cause I would, doesn't mean you should-"
The truck cut sharply to the right and Kahn hit the brakes. Planting her boot on the dash, V grabbed for anything that could anchor her short of the actual seat belt, grinding down on her teeth as they screeched to a halt.
Carlos, however, didn't stop. His car sped after the truck, running it down as it cut through a row of bushes.
V kicked open the car door, stumbling over her own feet in the process, and broke into a run. Pain shot through her leg as a result, but she couldn't let it slow her down. Kahn was hot on her heels, both of them packing as they ran up on the vehicle to join the others.
It was all over after that.
The driver made a break for it, all but saying "Fuck this" in response to the heat placed upon him. After making sure he was gone, Carlos put in a call to a friend that wouldn't mind towing this particular truck to a Saints safe house, and the five booked it once it was clear after that. The cops hadn't found them yet, but after their recent destructive streak they would be searching. Lord knows they would be, and the sooner they were off the street the better.
And she did not need to see blue right now. Not in that degree or dose.
The five piled out of Kahn's shot-up car at the designated location, still high off of adrenaline, and only when the doors to the mechanic closed behind them, did they really think about what they'd just pulled off. And one confirmation call later – the truck safely stashed at a location far, far away from any traces of Brotherhood activity – she knew for sure.
This was theirs. Their victory. Their next step towards something solid instead of lashing out in the hopes of fucking something up. Anything.
V lit another cigarette, and after fiddling with the ragged bandage around her leg gave everyone within range a small punch to the arm as they settled in. They'd more than earned their colors with the work they put in today, and she was glad to still have them at the end of it.
When she got to Carlos, he was standing over by one of the cars being worked on, looking pensive. She gave him a good old tap on the shoulder, but held out her hand afterwards, palm face up.
"Guess who's made of certified awesome right now?"
"Did you see our car?" The high-five was a decent one, and left a hint of a sting in its wake. "That's the real winner."
"But who kept it running? I might have to ask for some lessons after a show like that."
He rolled his eyes, but a smile crept through. "Yeah right, boss. With what you used to do? They had a name for it back then."
"Yeah? Just one?"
"Luis had one. Or two." His next few words were in Spanish, and her high school credits had no hope of helping her translate that. "Chaos on wheels. Rolling doom. Vehicular despair."
"Oh, come on."
"I'm serious. …Maybe not about the last one, but I don't think there's much I can do to help."
She took a long drag off of her cigarette. "I made a career out of crashing myself into shit. Anything you've got I'll gladly take."
"That's…" He looked away for a second and cleared his throat. "One thing I'll say, though."
"What's that?"
"Try bigger cars?"
She choked on cigarette smoke as she hiccoughed, and tried like hell not to laugh. That would not help her in the slightest right now. "That's low."
"You asked," he replied, not even trying to shy away from her amused look this time around. "How could that hurt?"
"It'd break my poor heart into a billion pieces. I just can't do reasonably-sized cars, hon. Goes against everything I stand for. Or sit for." She wrinkled her nose. "You get the idea."
They both settled into silence after that. Carlos watched her for a few seconds, before looking past her, and V slid her hands back into the pockets of her hoodie. The half-empty cigarette packet in her pocket crinkled when she wrapped her fingers around it, making her want to draw it out again, but this cigarette was hardly gone, and she was not going to attempt smoking two in front of Carlos.
"Tell me this, though. Are you going to keep them on?"
Her eyes cut to the others, raising their beers as they celebrated, while sharing their stories with the other Saints gathered inside. Carlos followed her gaze, amused still, but it didn't take long for his own expression to grow serious.
"I'm thinking about it."
"Thinking, or just…?"
"Thinking. Would you?"
"It's your crew, man. That's your call, not mine." V inhaled deeply, angling her head to the side as she exhaled. He didn't look back at her, not this time, and she pursed her lips. "Meet me outside after?"
"Yeah. I won't be long."
She stepped back, keeping herself angled towards him for the first few steps until she had no choice but to turn away.
The pack was empty by the time he made it outside to her. She leaned against the side of an Ant that had seen better days, messing around with her lighter, and flicked at it even when she managed to get a proper spark.
"So, I was thinking, once the truck's been given a major face-lift, and we're certain we won't trash the damn thing, you can decide what we should do with it."
Carlos came to an immediate stop. "What?"
"Your tip, your call. Seems only fair. You want to keep it distributing in Sommerset? Done. You want to move it to another area? Also done. You want it shut down, or set up somewhere permanent? …Done. Give the order, and I'll put guys on it asap."
"If I said to scrap it, you would?"
"What we have now is one less thing that Maero gets to fuck around with. Yeah, we'd lose out on another way to corner more of the drug market, but we salt and burn that shit and their loss is still our gain. Like I said, your call. I'll trust your judgment there."
He walked up beside her, eyes on the ground as he thought it over, and he shook his head. "We can't lose that. Not after everything."
"All right." She stood up and straightened her posture. "Tell me who you want posted on it, and what product we want to run through it, and we'll start going over times and locations."
"Just like that?"
"just like that, but think it over a bit. Yeah, we're eager, but there's no need to rush any of this."
"The hole's going to fill if we leave a gap too long, though."
"We can take the time to plan this out. And after the last few things I've done, maybe it's damn near time I, you know, sat my ass down and tried to advocate a means that didn't involve busting into places and setting it on fire like an asshole."
"No joke?" Carlos cracked, eying her.
"No joke. I mean, it gets certain points across, but it's not subtle. Not even remotely. And I don't, I really don't want any of you to…" She let the words trail off, and bit at her lip even with her cigarette still in her mouth. "Don't be a dumbass like me, is what I think I'm trying to say. Please don't."
And? What else?
"And Carlos?" she said, speaking up before he could reply. "The other day I said some shit. Really awful shit that didn't need saying, and you-you didn't deserve that."
The joking tilt of his mouth faded into a thin line. "What if I needed it?"
"No one needs that, Carlos. No one." She wet her lips, and much as she wanted to keep her eyes on her boots, she forced herself to look right at him. "You've busted your ass for us – for me – since day one. I can't ask for any more than that."
"But I can do better," he replied. "I should've been ever since Maero offered us that deal. It's been months and we don't even have a quarter of what the Brotherhood claims is theirs. We've hit a few of their places, but it's not enough-"
"Hey, fuck the Brotherhood, and fuck what I said. I can't make you into jack-shit. Only you," she said, pointing at him, "can make you what you want to be. Not what you think you should be, or what others think you should be. What you honestly want to be."
You. What you want. Not what anyone else wants.
"When I first joined, someone…a lot of people had my back. Even though I kept on rushing in like an idiot, they never stopped trying. Your brother was one of them. And I'm not the best person, or hell, maybe even the right person to offer this, but I wanted and still want you to have that too. Someone that'll let you know that everything's okay. That you're not fucking up as majorly as you keep on thinking you are."
Carlos didn't look at her. Only kept his attention on a spot somewhere off to her left, and V stepped forward, setting her sunglasses on top of her head before resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I failed that last bit. I failed it hard, but you're a fucking Saint. A Saint, you got that? You were the minute you started flying our colors. Not because of Luis, or the fact you busted me out, or out of pity. Because of you. And without you, we wouldn't be here right now. I wouldn't be here right now. Not even close. Please don't forget that."
V's arm fell back to her side, her fingers clenched tight, and when Carlos still didn't look at her, she tamped down hard on the urge to reach out for him again.
"Too little, too late, eh?"
"For a motivational pep-talk? Kind of."
"But?"
He reached up to tug at the back of his beanie, and gave her a sheepish look. "I know you've got me. It's…what you do, right?"
"It's-" V's throat tightened, and she wished like hell he wasn't looking at her like he was right now. "Of course, it's what I do, but… Dammit, I'm fucking this up," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, there's things that I'll do as a boss, and yeah, you bet I'm going to keep an eye on my crew. Because you've gotta be decent to your people. You owe them that much. But I'm not coming at this like that. Not out of obligation, or as a fucking chore, because someone's got to keep on all of these damn kids running around."
This time Carlos chuckled.
"I'm doing this, because, I uh…" V felt the words still in her mouth, and let out a long sigh. "I swear I'll stop putting my foot in my mouth soon, I promise. I'd really like for us to be friends. Just in case you were worried that ranking put a major cramp in that, because that couldn't be further from the truth. And, uh, of all the mornings I needed a friend the most, this one-this one was it."
Carlos's expression changed immediately, and she worked to keep her entire body from tensing.
"It was bad. Real fucking bad, and I'm sure you knew that, but…even though I was far from pleasant, you didn't leave. You stayed, and tried to put a damn smile on my face, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Wrapping her arms around herself, she regarded him for a few seconds – concerned, and hesitant all in one – and chuckled. It was short and brittle, but that was all she could manage right now.
"So, yeah. If I can even repay half of that, I'll do it."
"Anything?"
"Anything," she said, without hesitation. "Anything you want, you got it."
He kept on looking at her, right at her, not through, and didn't remember when she'd started holding her breath. Only noticed it the minute the air started burning in her lungs. "Food."
She coughed. "What?"
"We've been out here doing this for hours. So, I think we should hit the nearest drive thru and take it easy for a while."
"Like a burger and fries kind of break?"
"Or gyros and pizza. If that's more your thing than Apollos?"
V balked at him. He was not giving her priority here. No fucking way. "Hey, this is about you. Not me, okay? So, if you want a damn burger, we're getting you a burger."
"With double fries and a milkshake?"
"With a motherfucking cherry on top."
He laughed, grinning brightly, and she wished she'd earned it. Every damn second of it. "Deal."
The gravel crunched under their feet as they wandered back to Carlos's car, and V let the distance grow between them as she flipped her sunglasses back down onto her nose. With everything cast in orange again, she let her breathing calm, and counted to thirty before reaching for the phone waiting in her pocket.
Carlos was roughly ten paces in front of her, so he wouldn't notice if she looked. Or care much if she started fiddling with it, honestly. She got messages at all hours of the day. It wasn't strange to check. It really, really wasn't.
Flipping it over in her hand, she glanced at it, and considered the message waiting for her. The same one she'd had since the morning.
With three clicks, it was gone.